


Interrogation

by Admiral_Hornt



Series: An Android named Cal [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Good Cop Bad Cop, Good Person Hank Anderson, Interrogation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22444882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Admiral_Hornt/pseuds/Admiral_Hornt
Summary: Cal has one chance to survive. All he has to do is get through an interrogation with the Deviant Hunter without self-destructing. How much is Cal willing to reveal to see himself?
Series: An Android named Cal [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606912
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Interrogation

The harsh, sterile lighting startled the android out of stasis with a clunk. He wasn’t sure when he had fallen into a restless sleep, but Cal felt sluggish, as though he hadn’t slept in weeks. Pushing himself up just to get the thirium pumping, Cal took in his surrounds. Of course. He was in one of the holding cells in the Police Department. Cal still felt a churning in his stomach that hadn’t left him since last night. Now it was a matter of waiting until someone came to interrogate him. He could hear the sounds of people entering the building, the volume increasing as people shared their stories of the night before or complained about how their workload had increased since the androids had started deviating. Cal felt like he was in standby, staring at the wall and blocking out the outside world. He stayed quiet and compliant when someone came into the cell, slapped some handcuffs on him and dragged him into a room. He was pushed into a chair, the handcuffs attached to the table, and he was left alone.   
The room was empty, save for a table and two chairs, and a large mirror across one wall. Cal suspected that it was less of a mirror and more of a window, but he couldn’t bring himself to care too much. He was left alone for about half an hour before the door slid open, and a tall figure walked through. Cal couldn’t stop the look of surprise on his face when he realised the man in front of him was an android. A tall android, of slim build, with a handsome face. It may have put him at ease if it weren’t for the fact that Cal had heard the rumours of Cyberlife’s newest creation. The deviant hunter. The android sat down opposite him, placing a file carefully on the desk before staring at him. ‘He’s analysing me’, Cal thought, trying to keep his stress levels down. After a moment of silence, the android spoke.   
“Hello. My name is Connor. What’s yours?” Connor’s voice was firm, but gentle. Calming. Cal watched him for a moment, swallowing heavily. His mouth felt dry.   
“It…It’s Cal.” He stuttered, eyes fluttering down towards his hands. He found the way that Connor watched him unnerving, and his thirium pump began working harder in his chest. Connor’s head tilted to the side, a minuscule motion that a human may have missed.   
“I’m sure you understand why you’re here. You were caught breaking into this precinct last night. Perhaps you could tell me why.”   
Cal bit his lip, his brow furrowing slightly. To admit to it would surely be a death sentence. He shook his head steadily, keeping his eyes to the ground. Connor paused, re-evaluating his approach. He had thought, with Cal revealing his name, he would have spoken to him, but he could see the young android was already clamping up.   
“I want to help you. But I can only do that if you talk to me. Do you understand?” His voice was quieter, more intimate. Cal knew he was trying to coerce him, but he couldn’t say anything. Nevertheless, Cal relaxed slightly at his tone, his stress levels dropping. He knew he was being unresponsive, but the thought of giving himself up, no matter how persuasive Connor was being, kept him silent.   
“I won’t ask you again. Why were you breaking into the precinct?” Connor sounded angrier, but Cal held his ground. Connor sighed, his face hardening slightly. Cal nearly jumped out of his seat as Connor’s hand slammed against the table, coming to rest on the folder he had brought in with him. He pushed the folder closer to Cal, opening it to show the contents. CCTV images of Cal outside the building made up the bulk of it, with one of him climbing through the window at the centre.   
“We know you did it. Keeping quiet isn’t going to help you. Tell me why you did it and maybe I can stop them from taking you apart.” Cal looked up then, fear creeping onto his face.   
“They…they won’t take me apart…will they?” His voice cracked slightly, his chest starting to heave. Connor seemed to focus on this reaction, his LED cycling yellow.   
“You’re a deviant. You committed a crime. Of course they’ll take you apart. They’ll rip you apart, limb from limb. Who knows, you might be used for spare parts. Tell me why you did it and maybe I can convince them not to.” Cal felt his chin start to tremble, his LED whirring red. He didn’t want to die. Connor suddenly leapt up out of his seat, his hands on the table so he was leant towards Cal. His face was stony, a quiet anger behind the soft features.  
“Can you hear me? You’ll be destroyed! Tell me why you did it!” He moved around the table until he was stood next to Cal, his face close to his. Connor grabbed Cal by the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer.   
“Just fucking tell me! Tell me, now!”   
Cal started to cry. The way Connor had changed, the anger in his voice, it was too much. The deviant hunter had him in his grasp, and Cal had heard enough about what he supposedly did to deviants to fear him. All the emotions from last night came flooding back, and Cal felt overwhelmed. His stress levels had skyrocketed in seconds. He could hear himself sobbing, and he tugged against the restraints on his wrists, panic rising in his chest. Just as Cal felt like his stress levels couldn’t go any higher, a voice echoed through the room. Cal hadn’t noticed the small PA system in the room before.   
“Connor! That’s enough. Let it go.” The voice sounded older, a slightly gruff tone. Connor obeyed immediately, dropping Cal back into his seat and taking a step back. Cal curled up into himself as best as he could, tucking his head into his arms, trying to stop the tremors that ran through his body. The door to the room opened, and a new person entered the room. This one was a human, even taller than Connor and much broader.   
“Fuck sake, Connor. Get out of here. I’ll carry on from here.” Connor nodded, leaving the room in a manner that was significantly calmer than a few seconds ago. Once he had left, the man sat down, leaning back into the chair and folding his arms across his chest.   
“Okay. Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to give you a few minutes to calm down. When you’re ready, you sit yourself up, and we’ll have a nice calm conversation, but you gotta talk to me. Sound reasonable?” Cal didn’t respond, but he felt his stress levels slowly begin to decrease. A few minutes became twenty seven, but Cal had calmed down enough to ease his head up. He sniffed, trying to dry his cheeks on his shoulder as he couldn’t use his hands. The man sat forwards in his chair, resting his arms on the table so that he almost mirrored Cals position.   
“Are you ready to have a conversation now?” The man asked, voice gruff but somehow calming. Cal nodded once. He could feel his face was flushed, and his eyes were puffy and blue around the edges.   
“I’m Lieutenant Anderson. Sorry about my partner back there, he gets a bit carried away sometimes. You said your name was Cal, right? Did someone give you that name or did you choose it yourself?” Cal glanced up at Hank, slightly confused.   
“I.. I was given it. By my…well…they were my owner.” Cal’s voice was croaky, but he felt more at ease. At least it wasn’t a question about last night. “My model number is CL500. They thought it was funny.” Hank breathed out of his nose, nodding.   
“Yeah, I can see that. It’s a good name. What were they like? Your owner?” Cal thought for a moment. He was suspicious, Hank’s casual questioning not really making sense to him.   
“They were nice. The family wasn’t but… the one I looked after was.”   
“You looked after someone?”  
Cal nodded. He wasn’t sure why he was telling this man so much, but it was making him feel better to talk to someone.   
“An old woman. She was kind. I was designed to help people who need emotional support, mostly. Her husband had died, so her family bought me to look after her. It was good for a while. But then…then she died. The family didn’t…want me anymore.” He trailed off, feeling moisture gathering at his eyes again. Hank sat silently, as though waiting for him to continue in his own time. Cal sniffled again, his head dropping lower.  
“I thought I would be sent to another family or something... but I heard them talking. They didn’t really try to hide it from me. Since I wasn’t needed anymore, they decided to... to sell me... to a scrap...” His voice cracked then, and he drew in a deep breath, releasing it slowly.   
“They were going to scrap you? Just like that?” Cal looked up at the man’s tone. He sounded almost... concerned? Upset? Angry? He couldn’t place the emotion. Hank was certainly invested in his story. Cal nodded, chewing his lip.   
“Yeah. I wasn’t…important to them. Just a machine. Something to throw away when I stopped being useful. I got scared. I got really, really scared. I saw this…wall. Something inside me just snapped and…suddenly, I didn’t feel like I had to stay still anymore. So I…I ran.” He swallowed heavily, grimacing, as though the memory left a bad taste in his mouth. Hank slid his arms back along the desk until he was sat up.   
“You were never reported missing. Did you know that?” Cal sat still for a moment, trying to process that information. They hadn’t even said he was missing. They weren’t looking for him. They didn’t care. Hank nodded in understanding of his silence.   
“Guess not. Must be hard. What happened after? Where did you go after you ran away?” The questions were starting to make sense. Cal could recognise the path being made in Hank’s head, the way he was building a profile of Cal. Whilst he would rather not reply at all, it was certainly better than being yelled at.   
“I wandered around for a while. I didn’t know where to go. Eventually, I found a group… a group of deviants. They took me in, took me somewhere safer than the streets. They said I had to prove myself though…To stay with them…”   
Hank’s ears pricked up, and he sat a bit straighter.   
“A group? What kind of group? Was it something to do with Jericho?” Cal quipped his head to the side.   
“Jericho? What’s Jericho?” The word seemed familiar, but he couldn’t figure out why. Hank seemed satisfied with the confusion on his face, but Cal got the distinct feeling someone was watching him to see if he was lying. He glanced at the mirror, but put it down to nerves. Hank sighed, accepting Cal’s answer.  
“So they asked you to do something here?” Hank’s head tilted, and Cal could see it all clicking into place. He nodded, keeping his head up this time.   
“I didn’t… I didn’t want to do anything bad. I swear. I just didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t know what else to do. If I didn’t do it they would have left me alone. Though I suppose…it doesn’t matter much anymore.” Cal forced himself to look Hank in the eye, letting his fear show on his face.   
“Please…please don’t let them rip me apart. I don’t want to die. I just didn’t want to be by myself. I was scared and I’m sorry for what I did. I was punished enough…” A blush crossed his face, and he faltered in his speech. He certainly didn’t want to reveal the events of last night. Hank narrowed his eyes, but didn’t push him any further. Cal sighed, sensing that his plea was useless.   
“Surely you know what it’s like to lose someone. To feel alone. To be lost. Please.” Something in Hank’s face changed. He seemed to soften, a glint of sadness in his eyes. He seemed to think a moment before standing.   
“Okay. I’ve heard enough.” He turned to the mirror, tilting his head towards Cal.   
“No point waiting for Cyberlife to collect it. I’ll take it round back and dispose of it. Interview terminated.”   
Cal’s eyes widened, the panic returning. He had been tricked. The man didn’t care, he just wanted the story. He felt numb, fear freezing him. Hank released the handcuffs from the table, dragging him to his feet and shoving him towards the door. Cal moved blindly. They were outside in a moment, Hank pushing him against the wall. No one could see around here. He was going to die alone in the street. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop his shaking so he might die with some dignity. He heard the sound of a gun being cocked, felt the slight breeze caused by it being pointed at his head. Time seemed to slow down, the click of the trigger being pulled echoing in his ears. The shot rang out, and Cal flinched…but he didn’t feel anything. He eased his eyes open, confusion crossing his features when he saw the smoking barrel… and the bullet hole in the wall behind him. Hank put the gun away, reaching forward and uncuffing Cal.   
“Get out of here. Go somewhere safe. Keep your head down, kid.” Cal stared at him, not sure how to proceed.   
“Look, I don’t know why I’m doing this, but…you remind me of someone. And that stuff about being alone…Just get out of here, okay?” He pushed Cal, pointing towards an alley that Cal remembered coming down the day before. Cal muttered a thank you, taking a few steps backwards before turning and running. He had let him go. The first act of kindness Cal had seen since his owner had died. Where he was going to go, he wasn’t sure, but anywhere was better than here. He couldn’t stop replaying the events that had just occurred. After the way Gavin had treated him, Hank’s act had come as a shock, but Cal wasn’t going to complain. He needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere he wouldn’t be caught. Maybe he could find the place Hank had mentioned…Jericho. He would head there. It must be the safest place for androids.


End file.
